


Unexpected

by Haberschnack



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: AU after Tower mission, Aftermath of Torture, Arguing, Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Corvo Attano/Jessamine Kaldwin, Tired Corvo Attano, Whalers are Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-07-24 22:41:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16184678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haberschnack/pseuds/Haberschnack
Summary: An unxpected "guest" is found in Rudshore. Not that Daud is not waiting for this particular "guest" to show his face and take his revenge on those who took his empress and his honor away with a bloody knife and dark magic. But that what really transpires is too unexpected and Daud is left with a decision he thought he would never have to make.Save the man and let him get his deserved revenge?Run and leave him to die?Try to be his friend and save the new empress? Again?And his Whalers as well as that black eyed bastard are really not helping.Honor for all as the new dawn rises. It'll get darker until the light comes.





	1. Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my favourite theme: hurt some innocent game characters and then make it better... maybe.
> 
> But yeah, I like those stories and hopefully a few of you will like this stuff my brain produces too.  
> Please be warned of some blood and gore in the first few chapters and some flashbacks to torture. I'll add the tags as the story progresses, as there will be some more disturbing things in the future. 
> 
> Yeah and please beware that english ist not my first language and not even in german I'm good with grammar or spelling, so sorry for miss spelled words and sometimes confusing sentences with akward grammar mistakes.  
> I'll try my best and if you see something that is bothering you please tell me so I can make your reading experience more smoothly.
> 
> Thanks alot and have fun with the first chapter!

1\. Shattered  
  
Burns, open wounds, emaciated and a fever.

Daud looked down at the fallen man not sure if he should be relieved or angry. This was not what he had imagined. Not the least.

This was a sick joke, it had to be. This shell of a man, this skeleton, half dead could not be the masked assassin.

Daud had to look away when Rinaldo peeled the dirty shirt of, slowly all so slowly and revealed more carnage. The putrid smell of rotting flesh, sewer water and sweat was nearly unbearable, even for someone who had lived in the flooded district for a year now. Dirty black hair was plastered to a too pale face. Unearthly pale, lips grey, eyes closed, chest barely moving.

"Will he live?"

Rinaldo, one of his Whalers who had some medical training shrugged and poked at an old wound under the man's ribcage, leaking puss. "Don't know Boss" he said, lifting the man's eyelids. Only bloodshot white was visible. "The poison was a beginners job and a healthy man should pull through, but him..." he trailed of, while turning the man on his side without any effort. He was as light as a feather. Older, not well healed scars and scabbed over marks stood out starkly on the unnatural pale skin. Aedan, who had found the unconscious man, together with Thomas, turned away, a hand over his mouth. Daud growled a curse under his breath and turned away. This was so unexpected.

Anticlimactic.

Disappointing.

Sad.

Gesturing to Thomas he turned to the balcony high over the Rudshore district.

"Take him to my office and get Rinaldo anything he needs to treat him." he said and transversed away, sure that Thomas would follow his orders to a T.

This should never have happened.

Corvo Attano, Lord Protector, the Masked Felon and Chosen of the Outsider, his Mark on his left hand for everyone to see, was lying dying in his District.

How did it come to that?  
  


 

 

* * *

 

-A day earlier-

 

It was late morning and the sun was warming his aching back when Corvo dragged his wary body back to the Hound Pits Pub. Even though his body felt stiff and his knees were wobbly his heart felt light. Borrows was gone. Felled by his own words. Arrested by men who had been sworn to him. Loyal soldiers cuffing the raging, insult spitting man, hauling him out of the palace, for everyone to see. Corvos personal nightmare finally over. The people responsible for his Empress death disgraced, dead and in prison.

Gone.

The throne empty and the rightful heir in safety.

Emily was safe. Finally.

A sudden dizzy spell made his wary feed stumble on the worn stone steps up to the pub's backyard. The tiredness was overwhelming for a moment until warm, rough hands gripped him gently by both arms.

“Are you alright Corvo?” he heard Samuels voice right behind him, a solid warmth at his back, keeping him standing.

The exhausted man nodded weakly trying to breathe deeply even though his ribs were aching something fierce. They were still tender from the last beating he received from the royal “interrogator” while under the tender care of Coldridge finest guards and Burrows. And the fight he had with said “interrogator” only a few hours ago had just aggravated them.

Who could have known that Burrows lackey was dabbling in heretical witchcraft. He had not been sporting a mark of the void god but he possessed some powers Corvo had felt before. But that man was dead now. And his master in chains.

While his brain had been stuck in some of his memories Samuel must have asked him again if he was alright, because the worried face was now in front of him, weathered features pulled into deep lines, eyes fixed on the still swaying man before him, likely searching for new wounds.

Corvo finally nodded and cleared his aching throat to answer his friend.

“I'm okay, just tired.” he croaked, voice still not used to speaking. Still hurting from the screams burning irons, whips, knives and acid had ripped from his beaten body for nearly six months.

Samuel did not look convinced but he let it slide. He made sure that Corvo would not fall while standing and gestured towards the now sunlit backyard of the pub.

“Then lets go. I think the others are inside. The good news must have travelled to them by now!” he smiled, his friendly eyes winking at him before he turned and stepped ahead of him. Corvo huffed a silent laugh and followed.

Yes, the news of Burrows fall must have been heard over the whole city by now. The announcements over the Dunwall wide speaker system had followed them over the water, ringing from house to house. Telling everyone who had betrayed his empress. Who was responsible for her death.

Every time the message was repeated cold fury and warm relief flooded Corvos tired and beaten body. Giving him the strength he would need the next days, weeks, until Emily was on her throne.

Maybe then he could finally sleep.

 

He nearly stumbled again, his feet dragging on the rough ground. Samuel turned his head to him, giving him another worried look, but walked on.

He had to keep it together. Just a little longer. Just a little more.

He had hoped that it would be going to be okay again, that his future would not be a black void, eaten by rats and painted in blood, like all his nightmares. Jessamine's screams echoing into nothingness.

Corvo shook his aching head and finally reached the back door of the pub.

Samuel gave him a wider smile and leaned against the now warm brick wall next to the green door.

“Go on. They are waiting.” he said, crossing his arms and leaning his head back against the wall, letting the sunshine reach his face.

Corvo gave another huff of laughter and reached for the door handle. Before he could even open it, the door swung inwards and Emily rushed into his swaying form. Slim arms and the clean smell of the young empress enveloped him in warmth and happiness.

All was worth it for this feeling. All the pain, the wounds, the nightmares, the exhaustion, the mark on his hand.

All for this. Knowing she was safe and happy.

Soft hands reached for his rough and dirty ones, pulling softly as he was guided over the threshold.

“Come on Corvo, we are having a party!” she laughed, bouncing on her feet.

He couldn't stop the smile pulling on his lips. Her happiness contagious and filling him with a warmth he thought he lost in that dark, damp and cold cell.

The pub was warm.

Sunlight, so rare these past few months, had found its way through the dirty windows. The smell of fresh food and unwatered beer hit his nose while he followed Emily inside. His stomach made an unhappy sound, that was not heard over the sudden clapping.

Corvo suppressed the violent flinch because of the sudden noice and looked ahead.

They were all there.

Clapping.

Havelock, Pendelton, Martin, Wallace, Lydia, Callista, Piero and even the shy Cecelia were standing in the pub clapping for Corvo.

 

Emily pulled him forward until he reached Havelock who put his right hand out, clasping his, now empty after the young Empress let it go to join Callista at a table.

“Well done Corvo! I knew we could trust in you!” he praised, patting Corvos back roughly with his other hand. Pain flashed over his shoulders and ribcage. Wounds still not healed being jostled by the friendly gesture made Corvo suck in a pained breath, but was ignored by the other.

Pendleton pushed a glass in his free hand.

A toast.

They were all talking over each other. Praising him.

Congratulating him and themselves.

Martin raised his glass to Corvo and he mimicked the notion still overwhelmed by the noise, smell and happy faces around him. It was strange, he thought as he gulped down the burning alcohol in his tumbler.

It was strange but a good kind of strange to see all of them so happy. It had been three very tense months after all.

Filled with a lot of arguing about Corvos methods and the choices he made while doing the dirty work. Hushed and hidden conversations between Havelock and Martin.

Pendeltons drunken rages and Emily's nightmares. Cecelias paranoias and Corvos bigger ones. But it had been worth it.

Emily was going to be empress. Havelock promised that they would make their way to the Tower in two days and put the rightful owner on her throne.

Corvo would be pardoned by her majesty and the parliament, influenced by Pendleton. The Abbey, thanks to Martin and his new position as Highoverseer, would root out the last remnants of Campbells power.

The future looked so bright.

The light suddenly burned in his tired eyes and he closed his heavy lids to relieve the pain. The dizzy feeling from before was back and his stomach was still not happy over all the food smells. He shook his head slowly and tried to focus back on Martin who had been talking to him. He met the man's gaze who looked at him with sympathy.

Corvo had never thought to be on friendly terms with the overseer. Both of them stubborn and thinking their plan was the best. But after a while Martin had backed off and left Corvo doing what he wanted while helping with getting information and keeping the Abbey under control. He was a useful ally and maybe one day he might become a friend.

“You must be exhausted Corvo. Why don't you go upstairs and rest a bit. You've done your work now it's our turn to do the work.” he said, taking Corvos cup from numb fingers, ignoring the heretic sign on the back of his hand like always.

Another thing that was quite remarkable about the Abbeyman.

Corvos lips pulled up in a tired smile and he nodded at the core conspirators of the Loyalists. Havelock nodded back and turned to Pendleton to talk more politics. Martin made an amused sound and reached for a new drink waving at Corvo to go.

He stepped to the side and started towards Emily.

 

He nearly fell face down to the floor as his stomach started cramping painfully. It was over as fast as it came but it left him winded and Lydia next to him gave him a worried look. He shook his head, smiling to reassure her that he was okay and went over to Emily who was sitting opposite of Callista drawing in a booth.

Since he had taken her back to the pub, after punishing her captors, leaving dead shells at the brothel in his rage, he made sure to say always good night or goodbye to her. Sometimes he even read her a story eventhough his damaged vocal cords weren't capable of making all the different voices any more she liked him doing for her favourite books. But she was still happy and fell asleep swiftly afterwards.

This was a routine they sorely needed to reassure themselves that they were together again. Not in dreams or nightmares.

His stomach cramped again as he reached the table and he had to hold himself up on his hands to not fall to the floor in a heap. His knuckles were white as they gripped the worn wood.

Emily looked up from her drawing, a small frown gracing her young features. Corvo sucked in a sharp breath as the pain went away again and he let his face relax. “I will go and take a small nap Emily, I'm a bit tired.” he rasped giving her a smile.

“I'll come with you! I can read you a story, Callista gave me a new book!” she exclaimed and started to stand up. Corvo pushed her back down with one of his hands. Stroking her hair. “Thank you, that sounds like a nice idea but please stay and enjoy the party. I Know how much you like them.” She pushed her head more firmly into his palm and hummed quietly.

“Are you sure Corvo?” she asked and looked up at him through her dark hair.

He nodded. “Yes thank you.” The young empress sighed and he took his hand away, still smiling.

“Okay, but I will read to you later!” she decreed and Corvo huffed a laugh.

“Of course your imperial Highness.” he grinned and sketched an imperfect bow towards the giggling girl. Waving at a reading Callista he finally went to take a much needed nap.

 

The exhaustion that had him stumbling earlier was back with force and he turned back towards the staircase. The others were all talking but each of them gave him a friendly word or a nod as he went by.

The air in the staircase felt less stuffy than the smells in the main room of the pub when he reached the wooden steps, but the pain in his stomach was back and his vision flashed white and then dark with every step he took.

He desperately needed some rest and something for the various wounds that still littered his broken body. The supplies were scarce and he hadn't had the time to look after them properly. He knew that some were infected, not badly, but in his condition it was not wise to let them fester that long.

Maybe after his nap he'd ask Piero if he had some more elixir and some salves for healing. But first he had to get up to his bed.

His body was more than tired now and even the easier way of using his dark powers to climb the stairs was too much of a strain.

Reaching the second floor he was panting and his vision greying at the sides. Breathing was painful because of his ribs and still cramping stomach.

He felt awful.

Only determination and the thoughts of his cool and clean bedsheets kept him going. Some release to his now feverish skin, itching and too tight.

He was in agony as he finally reached his chamber. His world was spinning and his body throbbing in pain.

Legs failing he did not even reach his bed. Crashing to the floor, curling into his shaking body as sweat rolled of of him in rivers.

This was not right.

Something was not right.

What was going on with him?

Thinking hurt but his paranoia already had the answer:

 

The drink!

Pendleton pushing a glass in his hand. The burning of the alcohol masking bitter poison.

 

They poisoned him.

 

They betrayed him.

 

Emily, he needed to get to her, she was not safe. They were not safe.

 

Thoughts tumbling over each other in his pounding head, his body stiff and unmoving as his mind raced. Limbs not following orders, twitching uselessly on the floor.

 

Useless, he was useless.

 

Again, he could not save her...

 

Hot pain flooded his senses and he lost the struggle with his consciousness. Darkness enveloped him like a cloak and he prayed that it would be over now.

But this kind of pain followed him into the darkness. Down towards the parts of his soul which already knew that he was doomed.

He was going to die.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Don't know when the next chapter will come, but as long as my insomnia keeps me awake I think there will be weekly updates. The concept is still quite ruff but I know how it ends. Muhahahahaha!!
> 
> See you next time!


	2. Half-a-live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is, number two... huff, I'm out of practice writing more chaptered stories. Last time I did that I was 21/22... and I turned 30 two weeks ago... urgh.  
> But as long as some of you and I have fun with this story it'll be alright!  
> And speaking about some of you, thanks allot to all those who left kudos and especially the comments! I forgot how motivating it is to get feedback for my fictional works. So really thank you!!
> 
> Enough from me and back to the important part.  
> Have fun and see you next time, hopefully somewhat regularly.

A cot had been installed in one of the more protected corners right behind the overflowing desk. The board with names, notes and wanted posters pushed to the side to give those who needed to get around the cot more room. The stink of herbs mixed with hard alcohol made the air in the office heavy but it reduced the smell. The smell that made Daud flee onto the upper floor of the office where the huge gap in the roof brought fresh wind into the chamber. He had encountered worse stenches in his rather unusual live and profession. As he and his whalers had been living here in the flooded and rotting district for over a year now, piles of corpses rotting at their gates and houses molding under their boots did not smell that bad as infected wounds of a half dead man, whose live he, Daud, had destroyed so effortlessly in a few minutes.

That man, more corpse than alive, must have been poisoned at least a day ago Rinaldo had told him, after they had set him up in here three hours ago. Most of the wounds he had were still from his stay at Coldridge. Mostly burns, acid or from fire and bad healed bones. His back a patchwork of barley healed lashes from a whip and knives most likely. His muscles atrophied from lack of movement and malnutrition.

It was still very impressive what the rumours of the masked felon told about Attanos feats after escaping the prison, a huge feat in itself. Without the Outsiders gift he wouldn't have been that successful Daud presumed. Without them he wouldn't have been able to move that easily in the underbelly of the city with his numerous wounds and illness.

The Mark of that black eyed bastard was another unexpected thing he had yet to acknowledge fully.

When did a proper man like Attano gain such unwanted favour?

Most likely one of the Outsiders games he liked to play, to staunch his never ending boredom. Coming to people in need, in desperate situations, praying on their weekness and pain. Making new puppets and letting them dance until they burned themselves out or got killed by another marked. Or burned by the Abby.

His body shuddered unconsciously.

Delilah had been one of those who burned themself. Interesting until she got troublesome. Getting into the Outsiders territory and being more annoying than entertaining.

 

Or the bastard just wanted to see what this marked one would do against another.

Both, Delilah and Daud, powerful and with their own soldiers to command.

He and that witch had not been that different a while ago.

Ruthless and power hungry. Achieving their goals with blood and coin. But Delilah was out for revenge, something that hadn't burned in Dauds heart for some decades now. Maybe the first few years after he had gained the Outsiders favour and searched for the men who kidnapped him and sold him like a piece of meat.

When they had suffered their due fate he had started to look for better ways to apply his talents. He found others with revenge in their heart but no means to inflict punishment. Children pushed to the streets, men, women scorned and beaten.

Some got consumed by their pain and bloodlust. Others stayed and learned patience. Learned how they could channel their pain and anger, their grieve and hopelessness. Strike out of the shadows, a myth no one dared to hurt ever again.

Daud gave them his skills and shared his power with them. At first just to spite the Outsider who only gave his mark sparingly for his own entertainment. Then to built loyalty and reward. Most of them stayed because of the coin, or the opportunity to find revenge on the society that had thrown them out so cruelly. But those littering the halls of this hideout right now stayed with him out of friendship and the sense of family.

A hard lesson he had learned after Billies betrayal.

It hurt too much to dwell about it. Too fresh in his mind. His ranks thinner after he had let her go. Some of his following her. Their marks gone and leaving a void where he normally should feel them.

Those who stayed shared Dauds new, or revised ideas.

They were still Whalers, earning their keep through sinister means. Stealing, abducting, punishing and looking out for their own gains. But killing did not longer come easy, blades stayed in theirs sheaths and wrist bows were loaded with sedatives, instead of normal darts. Some of his had always been reluctant to kill. He never pressured anyone of his to do it. Killing was not easy and no one should be completely at ease with taking lives. Not even himself. Eventhough he thought himself impervious to such feelings.

Had thought that, which had nearly been his downfall in the end.

His last kill had opened his eyes. Had made him feel again. He had seen what his ruthlessness did to others, to a city, a whole country.

He had not only taken a mother from her child, no an empress from her people. Maybe the only person that could hold this moulding, rat infested land together. Standing over the corruption plaguing her court and seeing a way out.

But he had taken the coin.

Partly because of his pride, showing that rat of a spymaster who still called the shots in Dunwalls underbelly and partly because of the fear of losing his whalers.

The threat of clergymen swarming his base. Killing, torturing and burning his Whalers, his women, men, children, his family. Panic gripping his heart he singed, taking the contract to kill a woman.

No, not only a woman.

 

A mother, an empress.

 

It had been a huge mistake.

He should have taken his Whalers and run. He should have just spat in Burrows face and gone away. Maybe back to Karnaca.

 

But his knife still killed her. Spilled her blood in front of her daughter and her protector. Innocence wrecked and honour destroyed.

He was prepared to endure the consequences for his actions, or so he thought. Before Delilah, before Billy, before that half dead man arrived at his doorstep.

Now he was not so sure if he could take it.

It was not what he had expected.

He had thought that the masked assassin would come for him soon. Had instructed his Whalers to stay away. To not stand between Daud and the man who deserved his revenge.

Daud's blood.

Yes, the masked man came to his doorstep but not to push his blade through Daud's ribs.

He came here poisoned and unconscious, suffering from old wounds and trauma.

Half alive.

Suddenly at Daud's mercy again, like that day under the pavilion in a sun filled garden.

 

The Outsider must be laughing so hard right now.

 

That Bastard.

 

The sound of displaced air next to him snapped him out of his thoughts. Thomas had appeared next to him, waiting to relay his newest report. Daud nodded to show his attention without turning.

“There is no sign of a new attack or a force preparing to march on our position. Montgomery, who has been tracking the Abby's movement in the last week, reports that they have pulled their forces out of the inner city. Even most of the Citywatch seems to retreat towards the ports.” Thomas stated, while taking of his mask.

A rare occasion for the very private man. Blond hair shone dully in the weak sunlight coming through the ceiling cracks Daud was till looking at. “Are there any new information where our ...” Daud had to suddenly clear his throat while thinking over the correct title of the man's place in their base. “... guest came from. Or where he has been hiding in the last months?” he asked his second in command, a new but well deserved title after Billy and Brigmore.

Thomas shook his head no, pushing his mask into one of his belt pouches.

“There are still the same rumours of some groups plotting against Burrows but no one who is suspected to work with the masked felon.” The identity of that elusive assassin was still not public, yet.

Daud had suspected that it must have been Attano quite early. The first sightings of a well skilled rouge terrorising gangs and men of the law at the same time while people who had sided with Burrows disappeared or got killed made it quite obvious, for Daud at least, who was behind the mask of death. Attano was well known for his skills not only with the sword, but also as a marksman. The masked felon showed the same aptitude and more.

How that man had gotten around so fast and silently was now explained by the mark darkening his left hand. But where he stayed and who had helped him was a mystery, even to Daud.

And he must have had help, especially a man in his poor health condition. But not someone who was really concerned with their assassins well being. Or it was Attano's own lack of regard for his health. A thought that made no sense in Daud's mind. Someone as physically active his whole live and depending on his body to be a weapon in itself to shield his empress at all time, should have been more cautious with said weapon. At least Attano's gear, that they had discovered with his body, was in a better condition. Well cared for, clothes mended where slashes and holes had been. Boots well scuffed but oiled regularly against the wetness of the streets. The mask had been quite clean as well as the pistol and the sword unbloodied and freshly sharpened. The complete opposite of the man under this gear.

The man still lying unconscious in Daud's own office.

Daud's fists gripped the landing under his fingers harshly enough that the wood groaned under the pressure. When he looked to the side he saw Thomas making a face. His nose scrunching up as he finally got hit by the smell in the office without his mask on.

Yeah, it was that bad. “Thank you Thomas, you can go.” he dismissed the man gently and went over to the stairs. He should look how far Rinaldo and Pierce had come with their ministrations. And if the man was still alive.

His second in command just nodded and was gone in a flash. Daud understood the urgent feeling to flee the room.

He felt the same, but this was his office and his … guest.

His responsibility after he had left a man to be blamed for the murder he himself had committed.

Downstairs the air was thicker but not too unpleasant.

The burning herbs and alcohol somehow masked the smell of puss and infection down here better than upstairs. His nose itched as the strong alcohol, that was used for disinfecting wounds, became more prominent as he drew closer towards the cot. More lamps had been brought in and the window to the right had been opened to lent more light to the two men working around the body. A trash bin full of dirtied cloth stood beside a bucket of clean water and brown bottles full of alcohol. A bright lamp was currently held by the taller Pierce for a kneeling Rinaldo who was sewing a jagged gash on Attano's lower back. The man did not stir as the needle went through his flesh. He was still out cold, but he looked not as dead at least.

Or it was just the lighting.

He was cleaner and most of the wounds covered in bandages. Some were kept exposed to the air, still bleeding a bit. The deep cut under the man's ribcage, that had been leaking puss before, was one of them.

Daud waited until Rinaldo had tied of the thread before he stepped closer. Sowing wounds correctly was a delicate work he knew was better preformed in silence. His own face a testament of a rushed and sloppy job.

“Master” Pierce greeted him, putting the lamp to the side to hand Rinaldo new gauze. The other Whaler just nodded and lifted the unconscious man up to get the cloth around his middle.

“How is he?” Daud asked looking at the basket with dirtied and bloody cloths to the side.

Looking at the man was painful and frustrating.

Rinaldo let the man back down when Pierce was finished with bandaging him. He cleaned his hands in a fresh bowl of water and shrugged. “Honestly? I don't know.” he sighed finally looking up to Daud. His face was pale and exhaustion evident in his eyes.

He and Pierce had worked for three hours straight on the wounded man. A feat that would leave anyone physically and emotionally exhausted.

Seeing wounds inflicted by torture was never easy to stomach. Especially when his Whalers could have suffered the same fate after the Overseers had stormed their base. All of them would have been taken back to Holger Square and subjected to similar treatments, to punish them for their heretical lives. The mark on their hands.

Pierce suddenly excused himself, the dirty basket in one hand, going out to dispose of the rags.

Daud let him and stepped more towards Rinaldo after the other was gone. The others exhausted and pained eyes made him worry. Rinaldo and his Brother Rulfio were two of his oldest followers and seeing him this affected, was troublesome. It made him remember how he'd found them shortly after coming to Dunwall. Both still boys, like Daud himself.

They had been sitting near Holger Square, pressing their faces through the iron that separated the Abby's courtyard from the streets. In the middle of it and the sole focus point of the two, a pillory. Hands and head strapped between the wooden boards were two female figures standing side by side. Dirty dresses hung from their thin frames. Both had been flocked repeatedly and were sagging in their restraints while blood dripped sluggishly to the stone platform below. The women's faces were both turned away from the clergyman who was reciting the seven strictures over and over again, turned towards the boys. Pain and longing in their features.

Their mothers Daud learned a few days later, after he had taken pity on the two and coaxed them back to his hideout. The two women were not their mothers by blood but had taken the boys from the street and into their home. They loved each other and therefore died in the good care of the Abby shortly after.

The brothers wanted to bury them, but the Abby wouldn't release the bodies without taking a fee. Daud helped them and paid for a decent funeral afterwards. A funeral he always wanted to give his mother but couldn't. The brothers stayed.

Stayed by Dauds side through everything.

Rinaldo taking the place as their resident healer after he got his hands on every medical text that he or Daud could find. Some of them stolen from the Academy where Daud had studied for half a year one winter a lot of years ago and his brother Rulfio, who was more interested in fighting and teaching, became the instructor for every new recruit Daud found. Both of them unreplaceable and reliable. The pillars Daud built his Whalers on. And it was hard to see one of them so affected.

He held out his right gloved hand. “Come on, get your self something to eat, it's after lunch. And Montgomery is back on base and will be happy to see your face.” he said. A rare tenderness in his voice. Rinaldo gave him a tired smile and huffed a laugh as he took the offered hand.

“Don't treat me like I'm getting old and frail. That's you, you old bastard.” he grinned cheekily and blinked out of Daud's range, away from his swatting hand. “Shall I bring you some too?” he asked and took a blanket from a chair, to throw over Attanos still form. Daud shook his head and sat down on the stool Rinaldo had vacated looking at the pale face of his guest.

“Daud.” Rinaldo stepped closer again, putting his hand on Daud's wide shoulder.

“Whatever happens you tried your best, don't forget that.” Daud could only nod. His voice not able to form without cracking because of the guilt and shame he still felt. It was good to know that he still had them. His Whalers and to know that they were still having his back, whatever might happen, helped too.

Rinaldo took his leave silently and Daud leaned against the desk at his back.

Now he could only wait.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The darkness was endless. Darker than any night he'd ever seen.

Even the void was not as dark.

No, the Void was purple and blue. A strange light shining from its depth.

Speaking of the light that filled the Whalegod's realms it started to get a bit brighter around him.

Gradually the blackness receded and in the pale light that formed he could see a destroyed building. Not like an explosion had thrown stone walls in disarray, more like a force had pulled it in different directions. Like someone would the pieces of an orange.

The building was familiar.

Its pale grey stones and blue long banners hanging from bare windows. Patches of green grass and bushes next to white stairs. As the light intensified a pale, many pillared structure, with a round roof came more into focus, or was he getting closer? The pillars were thin and white.

Around them stone steps and green grass. It was hard to think in this moment but he thought he knew where he was.

He knew where he was and terror gripped his heart.

Blood was on his hands and he fell to the floor, clutching her petite body in his arms.

She was reaching for him. Telling him something but he couldn't hear her.

Only the sound of waves crashing against stone.

 

“My dear Corvo. Here you are.” the waves spoke and the void shone purple and blue.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The black eyed bastard is here!! Whohooo! 
> 
> More next time! Thanks alot!


	3. Static motion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, this was fast.  
> Not sure if the next one will be done that early but I have some time this week and will indulge in this writing flow as long as it lasts.
> 
> As always enjoy and thank you so much to those who left a comment! I'm really thankful, especially because I rarely leave comments myself... too nervous I could make a mistake... social anxiety... just don't know what to write because it would mostly be the same all the time (that they did a wonderful job and thank them... ), so this is awesome.  
> And thank you for the kudos, of course!!

The Outsider had appeared, in the pavilion suspended in the Void, like so many months before. Like the first time he had stepped a foot into the realm of the God. And like the first time he was on his knees, the woman he loved lying in her own blood.

Not moving, starring into the nothingness around her.

The letter with the cruel words of -you cannot save her, you cannot save her- next to the still form.

The pain was unbearable.

“My dear Corvo.”

The floating god spread his arms while his black, black eyes starred into Corvos soul.

“My dear, dear Corvo. In what fascinating situations you find yourself in is truly remarkable. The people you trusted, the men you called your allies, who you put your broken faith in are now like all the others. They betrayed you. Cast you to the side.”

Even if Corvo tried to keep the truth of the Outsiders words out, they pulled forth all the pain, all the sadness and rage he felt.

The words rang true and it broke his already damaged heart. He had been betrayed again and all of his foils, the pains, he endured had been useless. He was useless, nothing had been changed. He lost an empress, again. He could not escape his fate of losing everything he loved. Useless

“No, my dear Corvo. You are not useless. Your fate hasn't been set yet, eventhough the paths it may take are truly dark. But that will be decided if you want to wake up again.” the god interrupted his dark thoughts.

Corvo stared up at him.

What did he mean, if he decided to wake up?

Usually when the Outsider dismissed him he would exit the Void and return to Dunwall. No choice in the summons or dismissals had ever been given to him.

“Don't be that boring Corvo. You know what I am offering you.”

Corvo's eyes went back to the still form of the women he loved. The woman he had not been able to save and was gone now.

“All that lives comes from the Void and returns to it. She is already here.”

The Outsider's words droned loud in his ears. Like waves crashing against a stony coast.

Corvo could just stay here. In the Void.

He could be with her again. He could say that he was sorry for not saving her, for not being strong enough. Saying it to her face and not to the disembodied voice forced into a grotesque framework of flesh and gears.

His heart ached for this opportunity, more than he could ever articulate in any words.

A pale hand reaching invitingly towards him, appeared in his narrow field of vision.

 

 

“You can rest now, my dear Corvo.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Daud groped blindly for the cup of coffee that someone had put in front of him. He gave a grunt in thanks as the cup was pushed into his hand by the same person. The laughter that followed made him grimace but he ignored the insubordination for the much needed intake of caffeine.

The night had been too short with all of the disturbances.

Some of them good, some bad.

The announcements came in the late night hours that Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin had been found and would take her rightful place as the Empress of all the isles. She would return to the palace with her most loyal courtiers in two days time.

At least the young empress was still alive. It was comforting to know that she was well after they had saved her soul from an insane witch.

The other good thing that had been brought to him was an update on the Bottlestreet Gang and the old witch Granny Rags.

Both of them had often disturbed his Whalers while they had tried to surveil Holger Square and Clavering Boulevard. They were feuding openly again and therfore would leave his men alone, too occupied with their own fight.

Especially Montgomery and her group were more than happy about it. Gleefully she had recounted the story in the mess yesterday, about burning whiskey bottles being flung towards the old hag and not at her or her group.

But the bad news came shortly after the announcements of the empresses' return. The speaker system told all of Dunwall that Corvo Attano, former Lord Protector, was the masked felon. Every sighting of him would be paid handsomely and if he was found even a title would be bestowed to the ones who brought him in. He was officially accused not only to have murdered Jessamine Kaldwin, but also of abducting her daughter Emily, killing several Lords and Ladies. Names like Pendleton and Boyle had been dropped. And also working together with Burrows and the disgraced High Overseer Campbell to kill the former Empress.

Bad news indeed.

And Daud and his Whalers still did not know where Attano had come from, who poisoned him and put him on a boat.

Did someone know that the Whalers would find the poisoned man? Was this a trap after all? Burrows last attempted to punish Daud for his deeds? A ploy by the Abby, using the fallen Lord Protector as distraction? Unknown facts that made it hard to fall asleep.

Especially with the sought after man lying downstairs struggling for every breath. He had developed a high fever late that night and Rinaldo tried to keep him cold since then. He and Pierce, who was kind of his trainee in medicine, had debated to put him in the cold water of the still flooded ground of their base, but had stopped after Daud pointed out that the water was filthy and would just infect those wounds more. They'd instead taken to cool the fever down with wet rags.

Rulfio put some novices on laundry duty to keep those rags clean.

With all this going on and so much to think about Daud had only gotten less then three hours of sleep.

Not enough, not even for him.

His now empty mug had been filled again when he took another sip of the strong brew.

It was one of the only luxuries he refused to live without. Coffee imported from Karnaca and strong whisky from Tyvia.

The last shipment had come right before the other isles put up the sea-blockade around Dunwall. It would last him and his Whalers for at least six more months, if they even wanted to stay that long.

Shortly after the disastrous contract, that entailed the death of an empress, he had made plans to leave Dunwall as fast as possible. But the Outsider's cryptic notions and Delilah's spiel forced him to put those plans on the back burner, at least for now.

They would go, or more likely, the Whalers who wanted to, would leave this ratchet city behind for good.

Somewhere they could live quite comfortable lives. Away from all this death and under the sun.

But those plans needed to wait again. It wasn't over yet. Or at least until their guest had determined if he was going to live or die.

 

For now it looked like he'd lean more to the dying side.

 

Daud groaned and rubbed his gloved hands over his tired face. Smooth leather catching on rough stubble. He needed a shave.

Sleep and a shave.

Or a hot bath, a shave and sleep.

But first he would savour his coffee and tell Quinn that she should stop laughing if she wanted to be spared taking the next bathroom cleaning shift, her third one in a row.

 

Putting his hands down he took in the crowded room in the second story of a building that was used as their mess hall.

Breakfast was a meal that nearly everyone attended. A time were they could come together and exchange information or just enjoy being with their friends and family.

Those from the night-shift would inform those of the day-shift what they saw or did.

The kids huddled together at a corner table with tired eyes and scarfed down whatever Yuri and Dodge had pulled together from their limited stocks. And most of all the coffee was fresh and no one would disturb Daud until he at least finished his first cup.

Quinn had sadly turned away again, talking to Dodge who was handing out the food at one of the crowded tables. Even in her late twenties she was still the feisty girl she'd been at sixteen. More a boy in her behaviour than the girl she'd looked like with her long black hair and pale pink dress she had worn. She'd run away from her neglectful grandma and tried her very unskilled hands at pickpocketing Daud's pouch.

She and Billie became fast friends. Quinn always mouthing of and Billie, who never had been very vocal, delivering the promised punches.

Daud was still floored and grateful that Quinn stayed loyal and was not involved with Billie's dealings around Delilah and her ultimate betrayal. It too broke her heart to see her friend turn her back towards the people they called family and home. Seeing Quinn being herself after all that was good. Relieving.

A bit of normality restored, or as much normality they could wish for, he thought bitterly as he saw Kieron rushing into the mess, looking franticly around. When is eyes landed on Daud he transversed over directly.

The young man was sucking in huge breaths and sweat shone on his hastily de-masked face as he appeared, nearly colliding with the table Daud sat at. “Master! There is a huge commotion at the old Hounds Pits!” he got out before Daud was able to ask.

“What does that entail?” he enquired patiently.

The Pub was not far from Rudshore, built directly at the waterfront and with a good overview of the river and the Tower of Dunwall on the opposite shore. A pub some of his Whalers liked to frequent before the rats appeared. It was a dirty place for gambling and cheap drinks. No one asked for names and were one came from. As long as you did not start fights in the bar or the “secret” dog fighting ring, you were welcomed.

When the rats came the citywatch had closed the business real fast and the pub had been abandoned, or so he thought. “Start from the beginning.” he advised the young man calmly who was still out of breath.

Kieron nodded and visibly calmed down what was met with his masters approval and a nod to continue.

“Jerome and I were out on the river with one of the boats fishing when we saw the explosion. There are Tallboys at the pub, two of them firing at the building in the backyard and a lot of citywatch milling around. We did not dare to get closer, but Jerome stayed on the water to keep looking. I came back as fast as I could.”

It got really quiet in the mess while Kieron stumbled over his report. The pub was not that far and more Tallboys were a troubling sight.

Without calling him Thomas had appeared at Daud's side, already checking his darts and the fit of his mask.

“Thomas you and your group go with Kieron towards Jerome's position, take the other boat. Rulfio and I will take his group over the roofs to the pub. We will first observe and decide then if we step in.” he decided and only seconds later Thomas and his group of four were of to get supplies, Kieron vanishing after them. Daud stopped Rulfio who was about to go himself to have quick word. “I have to check on your brother before we leave. Wait with your men at the old station.” he said and transvered away when the other showed he understood.

The weather was surprisingly sunny this morning and the roofs of Rudshore dry as he transversed over them in fast flashes. His office was warm as well with all the windows open. He found Rulfio and Pierce sitting at Dauds desk eating breakfast while keeping an eye on Attano who was lying still and covered with wet rags on his cot. His chest was laboriously moving up and down.

Both men lifted their heads in unison when Daud appeared in his office. “I'll be gone for a while, keep him alive until.” he ordered and turned to get his gear out of the chest to the side. “What's going on boss?” Rinaldo asked already getting up from his chair.

“There's something going on at the Hounds Pits. Tallboys and citywatch. I will look into it.” he brusquely informed them while putting chokedust and stunmines in his various belt pouches.

When the equipment was put away he turned back to his men and nodded towards their guest.

“Has he moved at all?” Rinaldo shook his head no and Daud growled a curse under his breath. He left swiftly. “Stay safe master.” Pierce called after him.

 

It was not very far to the pub but the way got more and more dangerous as the months went by. Buildings in Rudshore had been severely damaged by all the water coming in from the river. Some already rubble and broken wood. Others were torn down by Burrows plague-control. The gates of Rudshore one massive grave for all those who'd perished from the plague or those who were nearly there.

A horrifying and disgusting place. Bodies rotting in the water, rats scurrying over still moving corpses.

Something out of a nightmare.

Not even the decency of burning the dead had been remotely on Burrows mind.

He was not the one to see, hear and smell this mess.

The wind pulled the stink of rotting flesh out over the river and towards the bay, a small blessing for the Whalers in the chamber of commerce. They only had to live with the smell of rotting houses, dirty water and mould. But up on the roofs they were not able to escape the stink and also had to look at it.

Silently they thanked the black eyed bastard for the power to transverse. They could circumvent all the man made mess over the roofs easily. As well as the Tallboys mingling at the Rudshore gates. As long as they were looking where they were stepping on the loose shingles and the rotting wooden beams.

No one noticed the group of five flashing in and out of existence over them.

 

They arrived safely at the Pub, stopping on the roof of a house to take in what was happening below.

A Tallboy patrolled the south side where the main entrance was. More than ten watchmen were milling about the street. Another one could be seen on the flat roof of the former distillery and there was additional movement in the first and third floor of the pub.

The explosions Kieron described were coming in regular intervals from the backyard of the pub. After careful consideration Daud took Misha, one of his smallest Whalers, with him to investigate.

They had to move very carefully over the roofs. The houses not tall enough to keep them hidden from the several eyes high up. At the waterfront stood an old tower. Its roof and most of the sides filled with holes. Only the second story looked like it could be inhabitable and a plank of metal sheets had been installed to connect the pub with the structure. In the middle of the bridge, the metal walkway going directly over its flattened roof, lay the shed. More like a two story building with a curious contraption on the roof.

“Is that an arc pylon?” Misha whispered as they spied around the east side of the tower. Daud nodded and pulled his head back as the Tallboy came back towards them on his round. The explosions started again and the whole tower seemed to vibrate because of them.

When their Tallboy had turned back to march up the street again, Daud chanced to transverse onto the metal walkway to see around the shed, leaving Misha at his position.

Two Tallboys were taking aim at the front of the building. Before their arrows could hit again and Daud's sight got obscured by smoke he could see more watchmen littering the backyard. They were clearly waiting until the explosive arrows would finally break through the closed shutters of the shed. 

From his position Daud spied a lone balcony directly under the walkway. Its door left open and he did not hesitate to transverse there before the Tallboy on his side returned again. 

Inside it was dark but his eyes could make out a whale-oil station, desk and a bed. 

As the arrows hit again he was able to hear voices from downstairs. His void gaze confirmed the presence of two people hiding down there. 

Most likely the cause for all the ruckus.

Daud transversed down into the open room while the Tallboys reloaded again. He landed in a workshop with surprisingly a lot of supplies and working machinery, thanks to the whale oil. A thick metal shutter kept the wide door shut and two sturdy worktables were showed under the stairs. Under them were two men hiding, one of them quite familiar to Daud.

“Good morning gentlemen.” he greeted nonchalantly as the next round of explosions had stopped. 

The old geezer Sokolov was the first to come forth. Pointing his spindly finger accusingly at Daud he raged in a surprisingly shrill voice for a man with so much bodyhair. 

“I do not wonder that those snakes hired you! And you also taking such a deplorable contract is no wonder at all! You have always been a man only looking out for himself. Haven't you? What did they pay you...” 

He would have rambled on without stopping when not his companion had come forth too, putting a hand on his still violently waving arm and stilling him momentarily. 

“My dear Anton, I don't think he came here to kill us.” His voice was a bit spaced out but his eyes were sharp and calculating behind round glasses, fixed on the man in front of them. 

Daud nodded, his face like always a calm mask. 

Sokolov huffed unimpressed and put his hands on his hips. “And what is his business then?” The returning sound of explosions answered his question quite easily. 

“I take it they want to get you two. What does the citywatch have against the royal physician and I assume another natural philosopher to bring a whole squad and three Tallboys to their door?” Daud inquired. It was a curious development indeed. 

Sokolov was the inventor of most of Dunwalls technical improvements in the last three decades. Without him arc pylons and Tallboys would not have been possible to achieve. He'd been royal physician for more than a decade at least. Even though he had served the royal family he was adamant to stay out of any political matters. It was no concern of his and after the empress' death he just went back to inventing. Helping Burrows was just a side effect. 

Daud had heard rumours that Sokolov disappeared five weeks ago. 

Shortly before the grand party at the Boyles. He'd thought that the man had finally had enough of Dunwall and sought a new patron elsewhere. 

His assumption had been wrong.

“They want our newest invention.” the bespectacled man told him as Sokolov refused to answer. “It's a new and improved pylon we developed. More powerful.” he clarified when Daud made a impatient gesture. 

The metal behind him was getting alarmingly hot. 

“We should get out of here.” Daud growled as he saw the metal sheets glowing red in some places. It would be quite difficult to get both men out of here. Before Daud had even gathered his concentration to call one of his followers over the arcane bond, the old physician put frantic hands on Dauds shoulders. 

“No, we cannot go now! They will take the plans for our pylon and duplicate it! I wont let them use my invention with out paying for it! And I say they have to pay dearly after all they did! Kidnapping me and then trying to kill me!” he raged again. 

“We could use it.” came the vary voice of the bespectacled man right to Daud's left side. 

“But the plans are still in Havelock's office!” Sokolov shouted at both of them. 

Daud was fed up with the other man's constant rambling and finally fulfilled one of his old dreams in shutting him up. A sleepdart was logged in the man's neck in a flash and Daud helped the bony body down to the dusty workshop floor. 

“Oh, now I know who you are!” the other exclaimed quite happily, a totally different reaction than Daud had expected.

“What?” he turned only to be faced with a rolled up canvas, that, after shaken out, revealed a standing portrait of Daud himself. The resemblance was not debatable. That was him. Painted by Anton Sokolov himself. 

“You are Daud, the Knife of Dunwall. Corvo brought it around two months or so ago.”

Daud's head was reeling for a moment. Too many conflicting thoughts crowding his mind. 

Where did this painting come from and what was this about Corvo bringing it by some months ago?

The next round of explosions that even started to dent the metal, snapped him out of his daze. “What does this new pylon do?”

The other, still holding the painting, looked confused by the sudden change of topic but answered him with new enthusiasm. “It works similar to other pylons, except it has a much wider range, is more energy efficient and has two settings now. One for annihilation and the other for sedation. But it's not finished yet and the plans are kept in the admirals office.” 

Daud took in the options he was presented with fast. They needed to get out of here, fast. But he and his men were no match to the forces of the citywatch circling around the pub and trying to smuggle two men out with them could result in an open fight. 

Something he really wasn't keen to do. 

“Where is this office and when I bring you the plans can you make this pylon operational. Faster than those Tallboys braking down the doors?” he asked. 

The philosopher nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, it just needs the last wires attached. But the plans have the correct calculations on them, without those we could blow us up or nothing might happen at all.”

“And the plans are where?” The next round of explosions shook the structure worriedly again. 

“They are on the first floor of the pub. The corner room on the south side of the building.” the man supplied. Daud nodded, the actions he needed to take finally decided. 

He concentrated on his powers and like intended Misha appeared in the workshop. 

Daud ignored the not really surprised OH coming from the bespectacled man to his side, to relate his roughly laid plan. “Return to Rinaldo and tell him to get here as fast and covert as possible. You have to hold this position at all costs. I'll have to get something first.”

Misha nodded and bowed before transversing up the stairs. 

Another knowing OH from the man again that made Daud's hands twitch in irritation. 

“You.” he turned, pushing one of his gloved fingers in the thin chest of the man. “You have a lot to explain when I return.” The man backed away surprised. “When my men arrive let them help with your tinkering.” Daud groused furthermore and transvered up to the first floor, not waiting or caring for an answer.

The soldiers and Tallboys were still concentrating their attention towards the shed, which made it surprisingly easy for Daud to get onto the roof and over the walkway into the attic of the pub. His void enhanced sight helped him to circumvent the three men searching through the rooms and he made his way down the stairs in fast transversals. 

Speed was of the essence. 

Speed and not being seen. 

Which was easy. No one was on the stairwell and only two men roamed through the first floor, looking into empty rooms leisurely. They did not expect someone sneaking in at all. 

Finding “Havelock's office" was not hard. 

It was the last door straight on after the staircase. 

No one was in it and Daud rushed to close the metal door behind him quietly. 

A suspiciously empty room greeted him. It looked like someone had cleared out as fast as possible. Stray papers and cloth were still on the floor. No table or chair, only an empty bed frame leaning against the windowed wall, opposite an oven, ambers still gloving faintly in it. The emptiness was concerning. Nothing in sight that looked like plans for a weapon, only an old bucket shoved into a corner. 

Of course the bucket.

A packet of blueprints greeted Daud when he groped into the metal cylinder. 

With those safely tucked into his red coat he turned back to the door and had to fling himself to the side to not get hit by it opening inwards. 

Cursing he shot the surprised guard with a sleepdart and pulled him completely into the room. He just left him there and stepped into the hall activating his gaze through the void to prevent bumping into another guard.

 

The metal doors of the shed still held when he returned to its roof. 

Faintly glowing tanks, filled with whale oil, had been put into place next to the big pylon in the time he was gone and he hurried to get onto the balcony. Rinaldo's masked face greeted him right inside the darkened upper room. 

Daud nodded at him and hurried downstairs to give the blueprints to the bespectacled man who was calmly telling Misha and Galia what they should do. Hobson was eyeing the dented metal shutters warily.

With their combined efforts the pylon was ready in under three minutes and the inventor turned towards Daud expectantly. “Put them to sleep.” Daud ordered and the man pulled the lever. 

High voltage of the pylon flashed through the workshop without doing any harm to those inside. The light show was impressive but worrisome all along. It lasted for good ten seconds until Daud felt the hair on his arms stand up uncomfortably. 

When the energy had been spend a few dull thuds could be heard outside. Metal and flesh falling to the ground. 

Daud hurried out on the balcony again. 

The sight that greeted him could have been plucked out of a dream. 

The whole squad of citywatch members lying on the floor. Tallboys grumbled into metal heaps and their operators fallen next to them. 

He transversed down into the backyard, his Whalers following him with caution and awe. 

“Make a sweep of the building. We need to know if all of them are out cold.” he commanded while checking if the men on the ground were only unconscious and not dead. To his great relief they were all breathing. Some a bit worse for wear but all of them alive. 

Calling for his men through the arcane bond, Jerome with Kieron, Thomas and his group appeared at his side. All of them must have been confused by the sight they had witnessed from the water but did his bidding without hesitating. They hurried around the yard binding the guards and putting them in the gap between the pub and the shed. 

With great effort the metal sheets in front of the shed's door had been opened and Daud turned towards the man still inside.

“Tell me everything that was going on here.” he barked and the man complied. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, dear Corvo will be back in the next one and Daud will get some answers.
> 
> Hah, the Oustider is such a fun one to write. Tempting poor tired Corvo with some damn peace and quiet.  
> Shutting Sokolov up mid rant is the first thing I do when Corvo has to abduct him. Choke him out or just dart him. Old geezer.  
> Yay and Piero is here. All of the outsider's toys together.
> 
> And I'm taking a lot of liberties with the Whalers. There are not many names canon and various authors have written them some awesome characters that it is a bit harder to get it well done. Hope it's not too much and does not disturb the flow of the story. I'm just a sappy person and Daud has to play dad for everyone.


	4. Surfacing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wohooo and here we are.  
> The last chapter that will have the most cannon things going on in it. Even though I've played through the game a lot of times I've never looked at the wiki of the game, which is now permanently open and gets consulted regularly for this fanfiction. Some things I'm ignoring, like Daud getting the mark from our favourite whaledevil only about ten years before Dishonored... In my head-cannon he is still in his late teens and doing reckless stuff with it while the Outsider edges him on.  
> This is like a filler chapter but hopefully still entertaining.  
> But first, as always, thank you a lot for the comments. Yeah, I can totally imagine Billie and Thomas calling him dad by accident. Mh... maybe my head likes it enough to write it sometime... we'll see...  
> Yeah, more guilt tripping for Daud and we'll see if Corvo takes the Outsiders offer or not.  
> Have fun and Kudos are always well appreciated!

The man from the workshop, situated in the backyard of the Hound Pits Pub, was called Piero Joplin. A name not that unfamiliar in Dunwall, a face more seldomly seen and he had quite the fantastic tale to tell.

How an Admiral, an Overseer and a lowly Lord had called themselves the Loyalist, coming together in secret and trying to bring the rightful empress back to her throne.

He finally got the mystery solved where Attano had stayed all those months.

Those so called loyalist had helped him out of Coldridge somehow and used him as their own attack dog afterwards. They even found the young empress and she had been here not long ago. Everything was harmonic until two days ago.

Until Attano had gotten back from his last mission and everything went to hell quickly.

Starting with poisoning the man, then killing the servants and forcing young Emily with them. Only Joplin, Sokolov and two others, an old boatman and the empress' teacher, had survived the ensuing bloodbath. The teacher had been taken away together with her charge and the boatsman had just disappeared, with the assumed dead Attano.

They had to cut the story time sadly shorter than Daud preferred, but a new squad of citywatch were making their way over the river and not even Piero could be sure if the pylon was able to help as good as before. Some low quality cables hadn't withstood the massive current of electricity. It would've cost them too much time to find a good replacement. Time they did not have.

Daud ordered his Whalers to take Joplin and Sokolov in the boats back to Rudshore.

Himself, together with Rulfio's group would destroy the pylon and take the roofs back to home base.

“Daud, there is something you have to see.” Rulfio insisted after Daud had given his orders and Thomas had disappeared with the two men. Joplin still not really surprised over their void given powers.  
Misha together with Galia and a very enthusiastic Hobson, one of his older Whalers, older than Daud by at least seven years, who'd always had a thing for making stuff go boom, had taken over the duty to destroy the lager pylon and most likely the whole shed, so Daud could follow Rulfio up to the attic.  
“While sweeping the pub we found some interesting documents they left.” the man said as he pushed some papers into his master's hands. Looking them over Daud noticed some troubling orders they conveyed.

He would deal with this later. First he had to see what Rulfio wanted to show him so urgently. “Yeah and this, I was not sure what to do with it.” he gestured towards the other door and Daud went over cautiously.

Behind it lay a big attic room. Dirty windows were not letting a lot of light into it, but even with more light it still would haven been dusty and the old green carpet full of holes and stained badly.

A single bedframe had been installed, the mattress now missing and the metal pushed to the wall on his right. On the wooden wall, illuminated by a single lamp, was a picture compiled of a lot of pages of paper with a very familiar face on it.

The art was clearly done by a child but it still was very easy to see who was depicted in crayon and ink.

The smiling, unscathed face of one Corvo Attano was looking at him.

Daud suppressed the sudden urge to just turn around and leave.

There even was “Daddy” written in big black letters under it. The ugly feeling of shame and guilt seared through him again.

There had always been rumours of the late empress being a bit too friendly with her strange, foreign royal protector. And after the birth of her daughter the Lords and Ladies of her court were ready to throw over the throne. How dare that woman to conceive a child with a commoner. Daud and his Whaler's had a lot to do at this time, getting contracts for abducting the infant or even killing the Lord Protector. None of them he took.

Not worth the money and what was it his concern that the empress was screwing around with her subordinate.

The whole affair was hushed over very fast and the empress made officially known that her child would succeed her on the throne and who ever the father was should not be of any concern. Even the Abby held their feet still and the subject was dropped. But the suspicions were still there, especially in the lower classes of the people around the Isles. Some claimed that it was romantic, others saw their own chance of maybe getting hitched with a Lord or Lady, gaining more money or a title.

Having the evidence now directly in front of him was pulling at him in a way he was not familiar with. Daud could only stare for a while, not moving.

Rulfio had been hovering in the door, looking between Daud and the picture back and forth. Even with the mask obscuring any features Daud knew how awkward and guilty the man felt. Daud felt the same. Even more sow now.

With great effort he stepped towards it and started to take the picture down, one sheet at a time. He would bring it back home. It was Attano's after all, made by his daughter.

After a while Rulfio came over and helped him.

 

They had just finished taking it down and Daud was putting it for safe keeping into his inner coat pocket, when Galia transversed to their side. She bowed shortly before informing them that Hobson had finished rigging the shed and they were ready to blow it up. The still unconscious guards had been moved into the pub, what was met with Daud's approval.

“And I cracked the the lock on the Tower door. There has been a room installed, looks like for a little girl. And there is a weird contraption pointing out of the window.”

Her additional report of the tower room was enlightening. There was now physical prove in form of the room, together with the picture they had found in the attic, that the empress had stayed here longer.

“I will have a look. We'll depart afterwards.” Daud told them and left through the window towards the tower.

It's door still open he entered the room and looked around.

The space appeared to have been used for sleeping and teaching when the various books on the shelves next to the two beds were an indicator. The bed further from the door, he had entered trough, had some puppets and drawings on it. Clearly they were drawn by the same person who had made the one in the attic room.

Curiously he riffled through them. Finding some more with a girl holding the hand of a black glad man and that of a women wearing pale grey, most likely meant to be white. His old cold heart ached and he put the pictures where he had stowed the big one in his cloak and turned his attention towards the desk under the window, looking over the river, to distract his mind from more guilty thoughts. At least they knew that the young empress was still alive and somewhat well when she was said to return to Dunwall Tower tomorrow.

The desk held Galia's described curious contraption. It looked like it would probably shoot something out of the window. For what reason he could not identify. Looking out of it he cursed. The additional troops of the citywatch had made their way nearly to the Pub's dock.

As a fast as possible he collected any interesting letters or audiograph cards from the room and hurried out of the door, back to the back yard and over the metal walk way.

Rinaldo and his group were waiting for him on the flat roof of the distillery.

“Light it up Hobson.” he told the older man as he stopped next to them. The man gave a short laugh and got two grenades out of his belt pouch. Lighting both fuses he waited worriedly long to throw them. As Daud was about to transverse away or punch them out of Hobsons hands, the Whaler finally threw them with deadly accuracy into the opened shed's door.

The whaleoil tanks and explosives detonated in a big fiery ball of lightning. Forcing the Whaler's further back seeking shelter from the blast. The arriving force of citywatch was pushed back into their boats or even the water.

Total chaos ensued as the building grumbled to the ground.

Satisfied with the destruction and ignoring a chuckling Hobson he motioned to go. They had a natural philosopher and the royal physician to ask more questions at home.

 

 

 

The way back was still dangerous and the roofs treacherous to step on, but the Tallboys and watchmen were oblivious towards their group who transversed in flashes over their heads. As they had reached their own territory Daud charged Galia with informing the sentinels on guard to keep their eyes open for any reaction of the citywatch and the Tallboys. Or if anyone had followed them somehow. After dealing with Delilah's witches and Overseers coming to their doorstep he was more careful. Especially with the lesser numbers of his whalers left after Billies treason.

Arriving at the Chamber of Commerce Thomas was waiting outside. Daud who was always expecting bad news stopped at his side and dismissed Rulfio and the others. Their reports would be on his desk at nightfall, as always.

“We were followed on the river.” Thomas let him know instantly. “By whom?”

“We could not see who, was a lone man in one boat. He was behind us after we took of from the Pit's dock but stopped as we turned into the canals towards Rudshore. We lay in waiting for a while but he did not come after us.”

Daud massaged the bridge of his nose. All those new revelations were giving him a headache. But he had to deal with this now. If that lone man had any ties to the watch or the Abby they would likely have a new force of enemies at their gates. But that man might also have been send by those so called Loyalists that Joplin had told him about and with the young empress under their thump they were very dangerous. Maybe more than the other two factions.

“Double the guards overseeing the water ways and if he returns take him in, quietly.” Thomas nodded. “Anything else Master?” the younger man asked before he did Daud's bidding.

“Yes, where are Sokolov and Joplin? And please come to my office later tonight, I'll have a job for your group.”

“Of course Master. The men are in your office, Montgomery is having an eye on them.” Thomas stated in his dry manner of speaking and transversed away after bowing. Daud nearly called the man back. That spunky kid, of course he had put those insufferable men in Daud's office, under the supervision of Montgomery. If he found Sokolov snooping around or Rinaldo and Montgomery flirting awkwardly again, all of them would take a bath in the floodwaters.

Repeatedly.

Luckily for all of them none of Daud's dreaded fantasies were true when he stepped into his sun filled office.

Sokolov was still unconscious. Montgomery was eyeing the other inventor suspiciously who was trying to get deeper into the room, most likely towards their guest in the corner and Rinaldo was currently not there and had left Pierce to look over Attano. Daud first checked up on them. Pierce was still laying wet rags onto the ill man's forhead.

“Anything happened while I was gone?”

Pierce shook his head no. “The fever at least isn't rising but he hasn't woken up yet. Rinaldo is off getting more tea and cold water. He wants to try giving him some fluids.” he said pointing at Attano. The man's face was lax in sleep and his skin looked translucent. Blue veins more prominent in his paleness. Some of the woundsthat had been left open were covered by bandages.

“Master, might I asked why the Head of the Academy was left by Thomas passed out in your office and why that other man is trying get through Montgomery, towards...”he helplessly gestured at Attano.

Daud this time sighed and patted the man on the shoulder encouragingly. “I'll explain later. Could you please look where Rinaldo is and send him back. After that take a break.”

Daud turned towards Montgomery who was looking more irritated by the minute, glancing over her shoulder. Most likely looking why Daud was taking so long. “You can go too, Montgomery. I will deal with those two.” The woman let out a relieved sigh and transversed after Pierce.

As the double door swung shot, Joplin sprung forward, making a beeline directly towards Attano's still form. “They said he died! Poisoned him and let Samuel take the body away. I saw it with my own eyes!” Joplin's voice got more and more breathless in his wonder, or horror. Daud kept him from reaching Attano's side. Pushing him to sit on a chest where the man was still able to observe the ill Lord Protector. “Stay there.” Daud ordered and went over to Sokolov, who had been left lying on the floor not far away. Taking a bucket full of water with him, he shortly just dowsed the older man with it and woke him spluttering and cursing in different languages.

Before the man could gather his wits and rant on in his irritating voice, Daud leaned over him menacingly. “Before you start again Anton. No, I was not send by those Loyalists and no I will not kill you, yet. Secondly you are for now under my protection and you will help with a problem I encountered. When you do a satisfying job I will let you go.”

Seeing Sokolov imitating a Hagfish was very satisfying. Gripping the bony shoulder of the man he hauled him of the floor. Dripping water onto the old floor boards, looking more like a dog, Sokolov took in his surroundings. His beetle like eyes fell on the still sitting Joplin and the form lying next to him. His eyes widened in shock and Daud could almost see the gears turning in his hairy head. “I gather Attano isn't dead and you want me to help him.” he guessed, glancing to Daud who just nodded.

“Yes, he is in a bad way. My men did their best so far but I hope the illustrious Royal Physician could apply his vast knowledge and help them.” he growled, getting into Sokolovs space. The man held his arms up in placation and backed away from Daud's aggressive form.

“Of course! But I will have to inspect the patient first.” Daud nodded satisfied for now and made way for the other. Sokolov approached Attano with some caution but after seeing all the damage he was fast engrossed in his work. He took Attano's temperature and unwrapped some of the bandages.

While the man began his assessment Rinaldo had found his way back to the office. Laden down by more blankets, a bucket of water and a metal pot, presumably filled with tea.

“Daud,... what?” was his very intelligent question as he noticed the new additions in the room. Daud couldn't help himself as he turned around pointing towards a still engrossed Sokolov. “I thought you could use a new assistant.” he grinned dangerously.

Rinaldo, after getting over his first shock, started to laugh. “You are an ass boss, but you still have to tell me how you got Anton Sokolov to help and who's the other guy?” Rinaldo stage-whispered to Daud, while putting down some of the stuff in his arms.

“I'll tell you later. Attano first.” Daud deflected and pushed the Whaler forward. Rinaldo gave him a dirty look but was immediately roped into work by Sokolov, who had finished his amassment of the patient and was already raving about different medicines and treatments.

“Mister Daud.” the strange voice of Joplin made Daud turn from observing Rinaldo and Sokolov exchanging information. He looked to the man who was paler than before. He wrung his long hands while starring at the two tending to Attano. “I'm not as proficient in medicine as Anton but I can still land my talents to help. Corvo is, I would hope to say, a friend after all.”

Daud looked at him critically and leaned his hip against his desk.

“You can stay, after all there are still some things about your time with those Loyalist you have to tell me.” Daud reminded him of the interrupted interrogation in the Pub's workshop. Joplin nodded his understanding. “Yes, were was I.” he mused, eyes going vacant.

Daud sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose again.

“Just start at the beginning.” he suggested and settled in for a long and this time hopefully undisturbed story.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The Outsider was waiting patiently, his eyes still boring into Corvo's kneeling form, even though the kneeling man did not dare to look up. He couldn't rip his eyes away from the woman in front of him.

The sound of waves was getting even louder as he pried his bloody hand away from Jessamine's lifeless body. It shook with massive tremors. He felt so cold. His body numb, his heart burning in regret and pain.

The Whalegod promised an end. He gladly would do anything to make those feelings stop. Forget that he couldn't save her. Couldn't save his love, the mother of his child.

His child.

Emily.

Emily running into his arms in the dark room up in the Golden Cat.

Emily, playing hide and seek with him.

Drawing pictures, waking him up in the morning.

He sitting next to her bed, reading her a story, holding her while she had a nightmare.

Pictures of his daughter were flashing through his mind.

He looked down at Jessamine's body that dissolved into a black mist, leaving only the cruel letter behind and him holding nothing, kneeling on the cold white stone of the pavilion. His cold shaking hand pulled the letter towards himself, grumbling it into a ball. No he couldn't save Jessamine, that was the truth. -You cannot save her...you cannot save her-

“But I can still save Emily.” were the first words he had ever spoken into the Void.

The Outsider wordlessly pulled his hand away. Putting it back behind his back, his black eyes boring cold holes into Corvo until he dared to look up, the letter in his hand grumbling to ash.

“Yes, young Emily can still be saved.” he droned in the stillness of the Void.

He never changed his passive expression but to Corvo it appeared that he was looking some what smug. Blackness swirling around his floating form, he leaned forward, bowing at the hip to be at eye level with his mark bearer.

“I am looking forward to your decisions following the events currently unfolding.” he said. His voice was still sounding like waves against cliffs. “I will be watching with high interest my dear Corvo.” were the last words Corvo could hear, before he fell through the air, under him the endless void getting brighter.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yessss, Corvo declined! Was shortly contemplating him taking the Outsiders hand but the godly bastard pulling his hand away in the last moment and being like: “Too late, dear Corvo.” And just vanishes...  
> Hah, not funny, I know.  
> Next chapter Corvo will finally be awake and the conflicts will start. Also we'll see what is going on with Emily hopefully.  
> I'm a bit sorry for bashing Sokolov that much. It's too tempting and as I haven't played Dishonored 2 (No money for a new console or PC) yet, where he has a more important role, I just write how he appeared in the first game. And the thought that Daud had been subjected to the raving genius before and not standing him at all is too funny. The animosity exists on both sides after all.  
> But enough of my rambling.  
> See you next time and thank you a lot for reading this mess!
> 
>  
> 
> PS: I've missed some mistakes, a lot in this one, I'm going over it later today : (


	5. Tired Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm alive.  
> My body reminds me every day of it and the regular hospital appointments, make it more easy to believe that I'm alive.  
> Sorry for the loooooooooooooooooooooong wait. But as you can read in my not so subtle way of writing it I'm quite ill. Or was. It's tricky. Because the thing that made me ill is gone but to make sure that it's truly gone I'm going through treatment that makes me sleepy, nauseous, achy, quite ill and does not help my psyche.  
> And the last chemicals made it hard to read or write. Eyes would not focus for days. I could not even play video games often, evenhtough I finally have time.  
> So yeah, that's my excuse. Still sorry that it took way too long.  
> But the writing bug bit me yesterday and instead of sleeping you get a new chapter with all them feeeeeeeels. So much feels and introspection. I hope it's not too much and understandable.  
> Remember kids: Chemicals that kill cells in your body might make you truly forgetful. And clumsy and tired, did I mention that? 
> 
> Aww sorry, back to the topic ahead. We are still dealing with feels and more Daud than I thought I would ever write. And aaaaaaaaaaaaangst!  
> I'm venting some of my feels too, hope it's not too much out of character.  
> We are dealing with a brief panic attack and Whaler feels. And shouting at Sokolov. I like shouting at him. Will stay a fixed feature in this story.
> 
> Now enjoy the ride into my stupid brain and making everything so difficult!
> 
> Until next time!!!

“By the Outsider! I think he is waking up!”

The excited shout from Rinaldo disturbed the discussion Daud and Joplin had about trusting anything men like Pendleton said was a road ending in disaster.

Until now had Joplin dutifully answered any question Daud could have had so far. About his work for the Loyalist comprised of names not unknown to Daud. And especially what Attano had been up to in their employment.

Sokolov had pitched in with his own experiences of the men. Mostly traumatic tales of being abducted by the masked felon only to wake up in a cage and witnessing a lowly Admiral nearly letting swarms of rats into said cage. Corvo stopping the man and bringing him a nice Kings' Brandy, that made him at least somewhat compliant with the demand for answers.

Daud had advised him to shut his mouth and do his job when Sokolov wouldn't bring forth more information about his capture, but kept talking constantly over his favourite Brandy and how hard it was to get it now.

Daud got Joplin to tell him more about the morning after Burrows had gotten dethroned by his own words. A feat they had to thank the masked felon for. Ending the bloody affair with a lot less blood shed Daud had thought the former Protector would use.

Even before he had been astonished by Attano's restraints that had found their way into some of his men's reports and the censored announcements over the Dunwall wide news system.

Not much blood had been allegedly spilled by his fancy blade.

Some low lives like the Pendleton twins. Whore mongers and rapists. Daud was still more than happy about their demise. Especially after getting news of them holding the young empress after Daud had given her over into Burrows men's care. Some things he had learned today that would fuel his nightmares and guilt anew.

And rage.

These Loyalists had thrown a party. A party for Attano.

Food drinks, music. All the stops. Grand for such hard times.

And then, after patting his back. Telling him what a good job he had done. What a great asset he was, they killed him. Not an honorfull death in a fight, one on one, he would deserve. A fight Daud would have loved to parish in himself when he looked down in the dark pool of his guilt. They used Poison. Concealed in hard alcohol. Bastards.

And then they got really sloppy and panicked.

Even Anton's interruption of Joplin's story, to describe the finer points of those men's crimes, where not an overstatement.

In cold blood, after seemingly confirming their assassins death, they had taken the young empress by force and killed the servants by firing squad.

Joplin and Sokolov had been in the workshop all day into the night, sipping some brandy and talking about their new improved pylon being nearly done and possible mass production if Havelock became minister of defence, when suddenly guards had swarmed the pub in the cover of the still dark hours of a new day.

Both unsure of the situation they had closed the shutters and waited on word from Attano or the Loyalists. None came for several hours.

Or more like, none they had anticipated. No Attano swooping in and knocking out the attackers. No. There had been Havelock bellowing orders to shoot the criminal defectors who had harboured a known murderer and to get that damn shutter open.

And rid of the body of the devious Masked Felon Corvo Attano, the Loyalists had been able to put down and rescue Lady Emily out of his murdering clutches.

Attano was dead and soon after they could hear the cries of their fellow inhabitants of the Hounds Pits.

Several shots ended their pleas and the horrified cries of Lady Emily and her teacher, who was called Callista Curnow, were the last thing they were able to hear, before they got taken away. Curnow, a last name Daud was quite familiar with, having had several encounters with the woman's uncle, who was a formidable officer with a strong moral code that made him incorruptible. Someone Daud respected even standing on mostly opposite sides.

After that unbelievable scene the bombardment of the shed had soon began and Havelock, Pendleton and the Highoverseer Martin had left with the Empress and Curnow's niece. They did not know where, but Daud spies knew that they had gone straight to Kingsparrow Island.

Joplin's tale was a weird one, but the truth, which made it more astonishing that Attano had lived through it all.

But how he had ended up on the water, floating in a boat more dead than alive, had still not been answered fully. Joplin had told of an old fishermen that had shipped Attano all over Dunwall for his assignments. They did not know what had happened to him, what was quite sad. After all, he had been a good man and seemed to have formed a friendship with the other wise cold and removed appearing Attano, who had only shown genuine emotion with his daughter.

A fact in Joplin's tale that had Sokolov pitching in that he had been the only one for many years to know who the true father of the Empresses child was.

For he had been the one to the deliver the future empress himself after all and had handed her to a weeping Attano, the only one with them in the royal bedchambers, holding the Empresses hand and telling her how much he loved her.

“In Serkonan you must know. But don't forget that my mind is one of the greatest in all the Isles and I am able to read and speak seven languages and several dialects fluently.”, he had them known, what made Daud remind him that he himself was able to do this and he did not feel the need to tell that to everyone he met. It had the man shut up again and focus on his work checking over his patient, while Rinaldo shot him a smug look.

Both who were now clucking at each other like headless chicken as their patient seemingly stirred in the progress of waking.

Attano on the brink of waking up was good news indeed. He had been in a state were no one could haven been sure that he was able to pull through.

Daud suspected the man's stubbornness, that had also made him into a formidable fighter, must have played a major role. And his not fulfilled revenge.

A revenge he might try to act out on when he woke up.

Even if none of his men were wearing their mask inside the hideout, they where still in their coats and easily discernible to Attano.

Rinaldo was currently the only one near enough, but he did not want to risk him. There was no way to know how Attano would react. If he was even able to grasp his surroundings.

He was suffering from a high fever and his state of mind was unknown.

He might have gone crazy.

Quite possible after what he had been made to endure. Betrayed by everyone he trusted. Loosing everything he loved and now being held by the man who had made it all possible in his stupidity doing deals with men like Burrows.

 

He and Joplin sprang up and rushed over to the two standing by Attano's cot.

Daud to order Rinaldo away and Joplin to see if Attano was really coming back from near death. Rinaldo did not need an explanation why Daud wanted him gone.

The face of his old friend and mentor made it more than clear that this was something he had to face alone.

The wrath of Attano was only meant for Daud. His burden to shoulder.

Rinaldo left the bedside but he stayed in the shadows. Ready to step in.

“Just in case.” he reminded Daud of the vow he had taken all those years ago.

Daud let him, any argument he could start with his whaler vanished with the deep feeling of gratitude and love he had for his sown together family of misfits, sullied and thrown away humans that he had the fortune to meet and guide.

He was aware that his men feared their master was somewhat suicidal after the things that happened with the empress and afterwards.

Billie's betrayal and the death of several of their follow whalers in the attack to their hideout and in the fight with Delilah's witches.

Their master had become more frayed around the edges.

Once a person involved in every detail, now more recluse and colder than ever. Guiding the younger ones, discussing with the elder ones, had stopped entirely.

He had been brooding more. Thinning out his carpet at night with his constant pacing.

Yes, they must have known of Daud's grieve and dark feelings.

How he blamed himself. But it was still hard for him to aknowledge that they had seen so deep into their master.

Seeing the cruel wish to die by the hand of the man he wronged so badly. A thought he himself had not known he harboured until Attano appeared at his doorstep.

And he was glad that once in this miserable situation, he might have been given a chance to prevent his dark thoughts to come to reality.

He would still let himself be judged by Attano and deal with what ever the man decided he needed him to do for his sins. But in this moment he could still help.

Was helping, was atoning.

Was stepping forward with a mission.

What ever would be necessary, Attano would get his revenge and his daughter back. And none of his Whalers would die.

On the black eye bastards mark, he would swear that in an instant.

Swear that to the man whose eyes finally had opened and were looking up at him.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It hurt. What hurt wasn't important. It just hurt.

Being hurt was nothing new. He had suffered a lot of injuries in his uncommon live. Born in the slums of Karnaca, fighting for his live in different battles, fighting with a blade to win a better future, been seen as an asset, promoted, promoted to the highest place.

Again fighting to be seen as something with worth. A person, not an exotic pet or trophy. Always fighting, getting hurt and getting back up.

But then he had been seen by a woman so graceful and strong.

Feeling friendship and a home in one person and then two. Feeling love.

Holding her and shortly holding another live, a live he had helped create. Seeing her grow. Seeing her laugh.

Having a family again.

Fighting for them, but not getting hurt, not feeling pain.

 

Until he had lost them.

 

Pain, a pain he wished he had never lived to endure.

He had cried more for his lost family than for the burns, lashes and cuts he had received under brutal but skilled hands.

It had hurt so deeply. Had consumed him so thoroughly that the black abyss of death would had been a wonderful place to lay his vary bones to rest. After all that was the last of him remaining.

Bones that hurt.

But there had been some people not letting him slip away. Had told him there was still a duty he had to fulfil. A purpose. Revenge and hope.

Emily. Finding her.

And he found her.

She was save. There was hope again. A hope that he could right some of the wrongs that had been committed.

Punish those that had brought death to his family and his country. Had robbed her daughter of her mother. Had hurt him in ways he had never thought to be possible.

He had taken that hurt and anger and used it in his plans.

Calculated and cold he had brought down the conspirators one by one. Had found new allies and trust in people who wanted the same.

Seeing the daughter of Empress Kaldwin on her rightful throne and the Defectors, the people behind the deadly treason, brought to justice in those unjust times.

Corvo chose their fate cruelly. He knew that a death would have been kinder in most cases. But he was sure that Jessamine would see his reasoning and Emily would understand the need to not spill blood but to deal out punishment. It would be more beneficial to learn this in her return to the throne. He himself was never one to shy in his duties, but those had been always to protect, not to kill.

He had never been an executioner.

Yes, death had darkened his blade with blood several times.

Death was something unavoidable and necessary in his work as Protector. But killing like a mindless weapon Havelock and his bunch had assumed he could be wielded as, was never in his core.

He had a heart that guided him in his path of revenge. A cruel looking thing but with the voice of an angel.

The Outsiders gift was punishment and reward in one.

He could hold her again but was always reminded of her death. She was always with him in every way possible. Even if she was not the same, even if she was just an echo, she was still the woman he had pledged everything to. His live and soul.

The soul he had longed for. They could have been reunited in the Void.

The God of heretical witchcraft had made him an offer. He could have stayed in the nothingness of broken memories and wasted futures.

He was so tiered of it all.

Of all the unending pain.

Of his hurt heart and body.

 

He had tried so hard. Had thought he could change his cursed fate. It had been in vain.

Humans were greedy. Humans were cruel.

They liked to hurt each other. Seeing the powerless in the dust. Stomping on limbs and heads. Slashing with knives and words.

Killing, killing, until some one more powerful and more cruel would come and it begun anew.

The Outsider must have seen it all. Watched the humans in their struggle and found entertainment in it.

Oh how he resented him. Oh how he was grateful to him.

 

He was alive. The pain, his aching body a true testament to it.

He was alive and he would join the circle of pain. Join it as the one stronger. As the one more cruel. As the one who would push others into the dust.

It would start now.

 

He finally faced the world again with opening his eyes. Or trying to.

They felt swollen shut, burning with tears. After aeons he was abale to open one but it was unable to focus on the blurry images he could see.

It was soothingly dark and a cool wind swept over his hot body. Something cold was laying on his forehead which was helping with the burning feeling making his hurting bones more heavy. So heavy that moving around was not possible.

He tried. His arms and legs wouldn't move.

Panic engulfed him. The fear of being tied down again rallied his hurting body to go into overdrive.

He could not do it again. Not again. Suffering pain at someone's mercy.

Helpless in a cold, rat infested dungeon. Feeling the critters feasting on his rotting flesh.

Men with brutal hands filling his days with taunts and violence. Lashing out with fists and feet. Knives and whips. Carving any humanity out of his bones.

He could not endure it a second time.

His mind screamed in agony, his body convulsed in panic. His breathing stopped.

Darkness came and with it peace.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Daud could only watch while in mere seconds Attano's wrecked body showed the first sings of live. His eyes blinking, fingers twitching and limbs trembling. He waited until the gaze of the man focused and got aware of his surroundings. But none such thing came.

Instead the man's breathing became erratic. His broken bones not letting him get his breath, which came shorter and shorter. His body wrecked with tremors so violent that Sokolov, Joplin and Rinaldo sprang forward. Pushing the man back into the bedding. Trying to minimize the damage his fit could inflict in his desolate state. And then stillness.

Utter stillness.

Daud was the only one who moved. Franticly pushing two fingers into the injured man's neck. The men held their breath.

After a few agonizing moments, that felt like aeons, he felt Attano's heartbeat. Still fluttering in panic, but getting calmer after a while.

“Okay, that was horrible to watch.” were Rinaldo's first words after Daud nodded at them silently. His voice breathless and his limbs trembling in shock.

They were all in shock.

Or not all of them.

“The fever must have broken his mind. I once wrote a paper about high fever and their delirium. Some of them staying permanently in this state, even after the fever has gone. Their minds left in the dark places they visited while being ill. The Abby thinks those people had given their soul to the Outsider. Quite the theory that I think has been proven now.” Sokolov had found a seat next to the bed and was pointing towards the left hand of the beaten man. The Outsiders mark looking more black than usual on the deathly pale skin.

Rinaldo suddenly laughed. A cold laugh that made Daud worry about the words his whaler would say next.

“The Abby is full of rat shit! And you call yourself Royal Physician!” he laughed again, striding from his place at Attano's unmoving legs and stopping in front of the now worried looking Natural Philosopher.

“High fevers can lead to insanity, yes. But it's the temperature. It fries the brain and can damage memories! That is what's happening and not the Outsider!” he growled.

Sokolov's bearded face went from affronted to angry in a second. He sprang up, pushing a spindly finger into Rinaldo's muscular but lean chest and huffing out a few curses before he started his verbal attack.

“And what gives you to authority to tell me that I don't know about the mysteries that rule this world? The intricate interplay of magic and nature?

The Outsider, a God leading his worshippers to greatness or to death. And in this case to death! Attano was not worthy to wear HIS sign!” he shouted, gesturing wildly.

Daud winced as the ignorant words rang in the deathly silent room. He should stop them now before any one got hurt and moved forward.

But he was too late.

Rinaldo's rage won and he did something Daud had dreaded for a long time. Dreaded so much that he had left the Academy in a hurry. He would never admit it but it was in fright of Anton Sokolov's constant inquiry of Daud's interest into the arcane magic of the heretic believes and the suspicion that someone with his reputation, of killing his targets in ways no one with an untarnished soul could ever achieve, was in league with the Outsider.

Sokolov might be a fool, but even he couldn't overlook the dark gloves that hid the Outsider's symbol Daud tried to cover up.

Too late. Rinaldo ripped of his own glove and pressed it, the greyish Mark frontal, into the shocked Philosopher's face.

“What gives me the authority, you ask. This and my knowledge of fevers and their aftermath. I've seen some of my sisters and brothers nearly dying after getting a high fever because they suffered infections or the cause was a poison or illness. Some recovered. Getting their strength back and they were still the same.

Others, they never came back the same. The were healthy again but their mind was disturbed. Memories lost, motor control damaged.

One young girl. She just, she just stopped talking, moving, laughing, after an Overseer tried to brand the 'wrongness' out of her. She couldn't come out of the pain she suffered and withered away. Her mind stuck in the cruelness she witnessed and the fever that had made her relive it over and over again!” Tears streamed down his face as the room listened in silence to his words.

Sokolov had sunk back onto the crate he had sat on, his eyes fixed on the Mark in front of him. His mouth open, but no words came out.

Rinaldo's shoulders shook as he started to cry in earnest. Silent sobs breaking free and he turned right into Daud's chest, who had finally moved between him and Sokolov.

“Come, you need some fresh air and rest.” Daud coaxed him, his voice surprisingly calm. Calmer than he felt.

Seeing Rinaldo that enraged and heartbroken was more than seldom. It had always been his brother who would show his grieve more openly in all those years he had known them.

Rinaldo always the one who was strong, who was the one with the positive outlook. Who gave those taking their last breath hope, or just patching up a scratch and telling jokes to distract the Novice from the pain.

Daud had leaned on his strength many a times. Mostly in the last few months of turmoil in his live. Rinaldo always next to him.

Making jokes on Daud's behalf. Chiding him, motherhen him. Getting others to make something that bring him joy, or show that they were still by his side.

Daud wouldn't let him suffer alone now too.

 

Slowly they made their way out of Daud's now very silent office and over to the library.

It was a place for anyone who needed some peace and quiet.

They had gathered all the books around the district and put them in the shelves were old folders with numbers from a long deserted and forgotten bank had been rotting. Nothing fancy. Most of the books were utter rubbish. The words staining them less worth than the cheap paper they had been printed on. But any reading was better than none and good training for the not so literate ones of his Whalers.

Some nights he had fantasized about looting the Natural Academy, but book thievery was even too low for him and he would never allow those ancient and important books to rot in this damp environment.

As expected was the library as quiet as ever and it instantly soothed Rinaldo's sobs. Daud pulled him towards a familiar corner and was not surprised to hear a well known voice speaking up.

“Master Daud, Rinaldo, how nice of you to try to find some wisdom in your lifes.” Montgomery started to joke per usual but stopped when she got aware of the state the other Whaler was in. Hanging onto Daud, face blotchy from crying and still with tears on his cheeks.

She instantly rose from the chair she had occupied, the book in her lap falling to the floor, as she took the short distance in hurried steps to engulf Rinaldo in one of her bear hugs.

Tugging the smaller man into her side, she looked at Daud for answers.

He had known that he would find his lieutenant in the library. She usually made her way here at her off days and would be found reading until the next meal. Often joined by Rinlado.

Daud was not that fond of hers and Rinaldo's ongoing awkward flirting. They were dancing around each other for years now. He suspected that they were just afraid to admit to their feelings and not knowing if that would destroy their decade long friendship.

Oxshit if you'd ask anyone. Or maybe they just enjoyed making Daud uncomfortable with their flirting.

He did not care. As long as he could trust him into her strong arms and gruff nature.

She was not a delicate woman. Taller than most and stronger than many man. A force in any fight not many could subdue.

She tended to be loud, letting her mouth run. But she still was one of his best. She had taken to any duty like a fish to water, but never following like a sheep. He valued her harsh critic and was more than thankful for her calmness in situations like this.

Daud was not that good in offering a shoulder to cry on. He felt out of his element most of the times. He had never learned such skills. Especially from his Mother.

She had been a good woman, but a harsh one. Strict and with the attitude of someone never getting anything given to her by free will. She had been a fighter, stubborn until the end.

She had taught him to be stubborn, relentless in his pursuits. Never giving in or up and never showing weakness. Not even to the ones he loved.

It had been a long journey to show affection, even in a minimal way towards others.

This character flaw had driven away more than potential love interests. People he might have wanted to spend his live with.

It had alienated him towards many of his whalers. Most saw him as a cold, calculating and even heartless man. Someone who found even the most atrocious act possible to further his needs.

A reputation that made him feared. Gave him more ways to manipulate and intimidate.

It had helped a lot in the past. But it had also harmed many around him.

Billie one of those. Not in the way that she had been afraid of him, or felt herself threatened by his cold nature.

No, she had found this side of him the point where she had latched onto. Had found her home. A person that could show her the way to become as feared as he was. A cold and ruthless killer. Not caring who would die or whose world would be destroyed.

He had seen the darkness in her grow for years, but he had never done anything against it. Had let it fester and grow to something so bizarre that he had just stopped looking at it. She had done her job after all.

She had been the best of them all. Fast, intelligent, ruthless, fearless and at the side of the man that had made her that way. That she thought had been the same.

But he wasn't.

She had seen that. Had her world view shattered by Daud himself when he stopped killing. When he started to show remorse.

When he wept like a child, hiding on a rooftop concealed by the night, but not from her.

She had grown distant then.

He hadn't seen it, too occupied with his pain. The realization that he was the one who had made the Empire that was Jessamine Kaldwin fall and selling her daughter into a fate he would never had put any child in.

She left and he broke. But he had not been alone when he showed his weakness by sparing her. Letting her go without a fight. Tears streaming down his face. Grieving for her and all those lost to him. The whalers who followed her and those that had died by cruel hands in their hideout. But those who stayed stood with him. Showed him how to feel sad without concealing it and letting others in to help.

His friends, family had helped him to find ways to express more feelings, but he was still learning. And it was an important step to know that you would love to console someone but were still lacking the right words for it.

“By the Outsider, what happened? Is Attano...?” Montgomery's hushed voice brought him back from his running mind. He shook his head fast. No, he luckily wasn't.

“There was a heated argument between him an Sokolov. The old fool spat out some nonsense that hit too near to the target. Rinaldo did not take it well.” The unmasked woman pulled a disgusted face and started to stroke Rinaldo's dark and silver streaked hair.

The tenderness with which she held him made Daud's stomach jump uncomfortably. He felt like he was intruding. It was not his place to watch them like this. Rinaldo, strong and always positive, looking for comfort in a woman who would more likely insult and punch first before asking questions, but looked so soft now that it was making him even more uncomfortable than their flirting.

He turned away abruptly. “I have a Natural Philosopher to shout at. If you would be so kind to look after Rinaldo. He needs a break and is not allowed to come back before he had at least six hours of sleep and two meals.” he ordered over his shoulder, his voice a bit sterner than he had intended.

But Montgomery just nodded, still cradling Rinaldo's head tenderly to her shoulder and gave a shallow bow.

“Of course Master Daud. I'll report to you later.” she smiled and Daud had to look away.

“Thank you Calla.” he whispered and fled with a hasty transversal back to his office.

He reappeared into a still silent room. Attano was lying on the cot like he had left him, looking like he was dead when there not had been the tiny rise and fall of his chest.

He felt the eyes of both Philosopher's on him as he concentrated his arkane bond on Thomas, Pierce and Rulfio. He did not like to call his men out of their rest. Especially Thomas and Pierce but he needed his second in command and his other medically trained man before something went south again.

All three of them appeared nearly at the same time a few minutes later.

While Daud waited, Sokolov had tried at least ten times to ask a question. Or shout more insults. Daud did not care and a look from him was enough for the other Philosopher to close his mouth again. But when the three Whalers appeared, bowing respectfully before Daud, Sokolov made a choked sound and sprang from his crate. “There are more? How many have gained the Outsiders Mark? How and when? Did he come to you or were you all worshipping him? Did you make him offerings? Sacrifices? Is it true that you have to shed blood in his name to gain his favour?”

This time it wasn't one of his or Daud himself who stopped Sokolov's plethora of misguided words. “Anton, please. Stop your foolish words and remember that these fine gentlemen rescued us and it is not a very polite thing to bully them with wild questions.” It was a weird and somewhat disturbing thing to hear the usually soft and dreamy voice of Joplin getting stern and cutting like ice. Even his face looked strange.

For a short moment Daud thought his eyes had become completely black. But it might have been a trick by the light and glasses. Sokolov looked as shocked as Daud felt inside and mimed a pretty Hagfish before he closed his mouth and sat down again.

After the short and unwelcome interruption Daud got back to his Whalers who faced him with varying looks of amusement, coupled with irritation.

He turned to Rulfio first. “Your Brother is in dire need of a break and maybe some whisky. I left him in Montgomery's care in the library for now, but I am sure she would like your help.” Rulfio's eyes got wide and he hastily nodded. With a hurried Master on his lips he transversed away. Thomas stepped forward instantly, Pierce directly behind him.

“Shall I put our guest in the holding cells for now?” he asked in a low voice. Daud was tempted but shook his head no.

“Thank you, but I am still in need of one of them. But you can accompany Sokolov to one of the empty rooms in the sleeping quarters. Provide him with a meal and a book by your choosing. A guard should be posted at all times at his door. If he needs to use the bathroom, or shower don't let him stray anywhere and please warn the others that he will most likely make a commotion. If he gets too rowdy you have the allowance to dart him.” the last part was said loud enough that the other occupants of the office could hear him. Thomas bowed and reappeared at Sokolovs side. Without giving him a moment he sized the older man by one bony arm and disappeared in dark smoke. Pierce looked on in unconcealed amusement.

He turned to Daud again and grinned. “I'm rested enough. I would like to take Rinaldo's place if that is okay with you, Master.”

Daud only needed to nod and Pierce went over to Attano and Joplin who had looked on with his big eyes.

Pierce and him soon started a hushed conservation about the last hours and Attano's condition. Him waking shortly made the younger man obviously excited but hearing what had happened next dimmed his enthusiasm. He was no stranger to patients dying after such a shock and he instantly checked Attano's pulse and breathing.

Daud looked on for a few minutes. Letting his thoughts just run their course. It was unfortunate that Sokolov and now Joplin, two with a scientific mind and at least one with an unhealthy obsession of everything concerning the Outsider, now knew of their hosts powers. But them finding out at some point was not unexpected. They were surrounded by people doing things that were not normal after all and having to conceal that would have been impossible with Daud's intention to keep their guest in sight afterall. But the way it had happened was unfortunate.

He stopped the second bone wary sigh for today from escaping his dry lips. The threat of a headache was back and his stomach told him he should find something to eat.

That reminded him. “Joplin.” he called and gestured him over. The man got up slowly and came over, never letting his eyes stray from Daud's.

There was definitely something wrong with this Natural Philosopher Daud decided warily.

“I assume you haven't eaten in a while. I could bring you with me to mess if you need anything.”

Joplin did not answer to his offer right away. His eery gaze went back to Attano before he replied. “Thank you Mister Daud, but I do not require more than some water for now. And I would like to stay with Corvo. I think a familiar face might sooth him when he wakes again.”

Daud grunted his approval. It was good to see someone being more concerned with the fallen Protector than in uncovering heretical powers.

“Good” he said and went over to Pierce.

“Joplin filled you in?” The younger man nodded and redid the wet cloth on his patients forehead.

“I will leave you two alone for an hour or so. If he wakes again don't let him know with whom he is and wait until I'm back. I'll bring something for him and Joplin. Do you need anything else? Should I get you one of the Novices?”

Pierce face scrunched up in thought. Most likely about what or whom he would need. He had only become a full fledge assassin and Whaler after turning seventeen a year ago and mastering bow and sword. His Arkane bond had given him the powers of transversal and stopping time already two years before when Galia had found him on one of her trips from a tavern. Pierce had been kicked out of a gang and had been beaten to a pulp. One of his remaining mates had tried to stick him with a knife but the boy was still fast enough to evade the blade several time before Galia had choked his opponent unconscious.

The still drunk Whaler had found the whole affair so hilarious that she had taken the nearly fainting boy back to their former hideout. Daud had not been pleased but had let her take him and herself to Rinaldo to get patched up.

He wasn't sure but it was most likely the encounter with Rinaldo and the art of fixing bodies with knowledge and care that made him determined to learn it too. He begged to stay and Daud took him in. He was fast and had already advanced skills in stealing which made him even more interesting to Galia, who was a master herself.

His kindness and being a street kid himself since he had been seven, made him a great addition to the young ones. The older ones respected his training under two of the Whaler Masters and his skill in patching training wounds or things that happened while the others were doing reckless stunts was a bonus in everyone's book. And the children flocked to him because he was nice and could read.

He knew them all very well and even his status as a full fledged Whaler did not stop the Novices or him from talking and spending time together.

“Master, I would like Elena to join me. She is very fast and not squeamish concerning injuries. And I think a watered down soup would be ideal for Master Attano.” Daud nodded in approval and left his office with the order to alert him in any case.

 

The sun was already setting when he stepped onto the metal walkway of the lower base. Some watch points had been vacated in favour for a wider perimeter sweep he had ordered only this morning. What a day it had been.

Hearing of the empresses return just this night felt quite unreal. The huge amount of information he had received from Joplin's tale was more than enough for one day. And then there were the documents he and his Wahler's had found at the pub, that where still in one of his coat pockets. As were the pictures from a daughter to her father. He had not even had time to go over the reports from yesterday and those of today would soon enough arrive at his desk. This night looked to be shorter than the last one.

But at least Attano had not succumbed to his injuries and none of his Whalers had been hurt by the City Watch.

His stomach remembered him that he really should get some food and he quickened his step. He still had work to do today. No rest for the wicked, he told himself with a tiered smirk and transversed the last way towards the already filled mess hall. Dinner was most likely served.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Waking up was hard. Like wading through silt. The fine grained mud pulling down his feet with every step and threatening to swallow his boots and leaving his feet unprotected to seashells and rocks.

Slowly, all so slowly he came back. The pain was there like an old friend. Piercing his unconscious mind like daggers heated up by fire.

He knew that he was still alive. Hurting meant to be alive for him in the last year. Waking up in Coldridge prison and feeling the uncountable pains his body suffered meant that he was back in the waking hours of his nightmare. He was still breathing. His fate not decided.

He could still save Emily. But first he needed to asses where he was and if he needed to fight or flee.

The last memory he was able to recall was of Samuel heaving him into a boat and telling him he would be back when the coast was clear.

He really hoped that it was and Samuel had come back. After all the old fisherman was the last one he could trust. All the others had betrayed him or had looked away. Even those he felt friendship to. Piero who was always happy to help. Who seemed to have is own demons he fought at night. Cecilia he felt a deep kinship to, as he was one of the few people she dared to talk to. Most times seeming to be mute and keeping her head down. Attano whose damages throat had made him near mute and whose paranoia could rival that of the quiet red head, understood all to well her fears and resentment towards Havelock and the other royals.

Callista he missed too and he hoped that she hadn't been aware of the plot to kill him. She had been such a good influence towards Emily. Being there for her when he had to run errands. Teaching her more than mathematics and biology, but reminding the young girl that she was one. Even though she had appeared to be quite strict and cool faced with Emily's usual antics, he had seen her laugh behind the girls back, a fond and happy look on her face.

He hoped she was well and helped his daughter until he was with her again.

He even hoped Lydia was okay. The barmaid who had come on to him the minute he had stepped in to the pub. He did not feel comfortable with her advances but she was the only one who would tell Wallace of for being rude to him or Cecilia. It was hard to think about her as a traitor.

But it could still be reality. A reality he had to face now.

Slowly, all so slowly he opened his eyes.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You did it!!  
> After sleeping at least 12 hours I will get back to correcting errors. I've gone over all the other chapters already and hopefully got all of them. Nothing changed story wise, only some grammar stuff and punctuation.
> 
> Again thanks for sticking to this and sooooooooooooo much thank you to all the commenters and people leaving kudos! You made my weeks, months and days, it's cheesy but the truth!
> 
> And remember kids:  
> PSA start!  
> Going to the Doc regularly is important! Especially if you are not sure if the thing you noticed on or in your body should be that way, even if the treatment is not easy and makes you forgetful, and sleepy and sick..... yeah I stop now.  
> But seriously ( Siriusly Black kids!) go check yourself regularly and go to the Doc!  
> PSA over!
> 
> Cheers!!
> 
> Edit: Gone over the text. Found some mistakes and weird grammar. Should be much better now! Thanks for reading!!


End file.
